The buzz from the amp seems unintentional now, but it recalls the band’s first album, Sinema , which opens the same way. This evening at Counterculture might run wayward, with a dramatic burlesque on the one hand and ambient psychedelia on the other, haunting samples dividing attention. It, however, will always, somehow creep right back into a sewer-romance fraught with doom and a band of gypsies fighting it out with song. “Thank you for coming. This is Peter Cat Recording Company. Thank you for coming. Thank you.”
They heighten a sense of drama with cued sounds, synths and cavernous guitars overlapping each other, until a waltzing ballad about a two-timing lover takes over. Her duplicity spills into the song such that you can’t be sure whether to sympathize or rejoice. PCRC has been described ‘bittersweet,’ because what they share is not the inaccessible knowledge of ‘cool,’ as custom with many bands, but the stale, common reality that, at second glimpse, is always drenched in irony.
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“There are so many people here. There are more interesting people in India just by virtue of the numbers and everyone’s holding something back,” says Suryakanth who fronts the band and writes their songs.
Though the crowd is mostly contemplative between tracks, it’s an approachable atmosphere that beckoned six girls and two guys to dance in front of stage, ahead of the dinner tables. The turn out is a little more than usual to see this band from Delhi.
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They’re always demanding a second look at life, but for the moment, the moaning slide guitar fulfils every cloud in the delusion. The idea to take back home tonight may be that celebration can mend wounds as music dissolves reality, just like at the cinemas. Some black-and-white Bollywood diva sings a classical strain for the cabaret with every push of the button. It’s ultimately tempting to let yourself fall for pain, even if just to acknowledge it.